Page 13 of Trickery

“Why not?” Every witch did it. Every witch had to cede to the command.

Austin didn’t answer. He stormed to the window and glared out at the street. Night had fallen. The sky was dark.

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want you standing there in the center, that’s why.”

Willow didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know how to respond. She finally managed, “You don’t want me taking my vows?” Why? Why would he so adamantly oppose that?

He snorted. “It’s not the vows. It’s what follows.”

“The…consummation?”

“Yes!” Oh my. He was upset. He fairly spat the word.

Was he…jealous?

Ridiculous.

They’d only just met, for Gaia’s sake.

She opened her aura and focused on him. A trail of his emotion, a questing skein of his chi tangled with hers. She felt him. Tasted him.

He spun around. “Stop that!” He raked his fingers through his hair until it stood up on end.

But it was too late. She’d found him. It was only a hint of his essence but it was enough. What she saw shocked her to the core.

He wasn’t at all what he seemed, self-assured and cocky and heartless. There was something else there, in him, something that spoke to her. The hint of a boy who’d never belonged. Never measured up. Never felt like he deserved to achieve his goals. Unsure. Unwanted. Unloved.

Oh. How she wanted to love him.

There was jealousy snaking around inside his soul as well. A deep cauldron of roiling possessiveness and desire. And all of it for her.

He sat on the bed and buried his face in his palms. “Stop that,” he repeated, but it was far too late. She’d found him. Touched him. Knew him.

“Release me, Austin.” She attempted a command.

He set his teeth. “Won’t work, Willow. Nice try though. I’m not going to let you go. And by the way, my name’s not Austin.”

“It’s not?”

“No. It’s Damien. Damien DeWinter.” His gaze skated to hers, took in her shock.

“DeWinter? As in Az—”

“Shh.” He laid his fingers on her lips. They tingled at his touch. “Don’t say it. Yes. The Great Warlock is my father.”

Willow shuddered as the import of his words sank in. Holy hell. What had she wandered into?

“But don’t fret, little one. I’m hardly his favorite. Hardly the golden boy. I’m the black sheep of the family, you see.”

Still… His father was the most powerful warlock in the Witching World.

“Aust—Damien. When he finds out what you’ve done…”

Damien threw back his head and laughed. “He’ll what? Lecture me? Punish me?” His face became a mask. “He’s already done his worst.”

“W-what?”